Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was a beautiful day outside. Birds were singing, flowers were blooming, and two skeletons were facing eachother on a battlefield. Both of them wielded knives, and a crowd of three were watching from the sidelines, one of which held a first aid kit; knowing these two, they were going to need it. Killer was the first to move, rushing forward to get the first strike. Cross, however, wasn't going to let him do that, sidestepping and ducking as he dragged his blades through the path where Killer's knees would have been, had he not leaped out of the way. As fast as Killer came, he turned around and threw a knife at the ground where Cross's foot had been a mere second before; Cross had teleported out of the way, and he was now behind Killer, preparing to strike. 

"Heh!" Killer chuckled, swerving out of the way to reveal a barrage of bones, which were now heading toward the monochrome skeleton.

Cross, ever on-guard, quickly ducked and rolled out of the way of the magical attack. As he quickly rose to his feet, he was faced with a frontal assault by his opponent, who intended to stab him. Cross blocked Killer's blades with his own, as fast as they were moving; one up high, and down low, to the left and right, and on and on - Killer had always been known for his speed. As he blocked the onslaught of knives, Cross noted a common error of Killer's - too much offense and not enough defense. In one quick motion, he braced himself for an impact and rammed one of his blades up into Killer's left arm. As recompense, he suffered an injury to his ribcage, but it wasn't too bad, thankfully.

"Agh!" Killer reacted, but he refused to give up this fight, despite having only one arm remaining.

Killer pulled back instantaneously after Cross's lunge, twisting his body to prevent Cross from retrieving his weapon, and he teleported several feet away before yanking the blade out of his arm and lobbing it across the battlefield, away from Cross. Both fighters now only had one weapon, but Cross could change that, if he could get close enough to one of Killer's dropped weapons. Cross switched his current weapon to his dominant hand, and he sidestepped out of the way from Killer's next attack, which was..a lot of goop. Killer's blaster, unfortunately, did not shoot lasers; it shot liquid determination, the same liquid that fell from the skeleton's eyesockets..and it was slippery. Cross retreated from the now-unstable ground, knowing that Killer would have bested him if he were to catch him on it; Killer had practiced his fighting skills on the liquid far more than Cross had. 

"Aw, come on, Crossy!" Killer shouted, from the other side of the arena. "This is a fight, so come on and fight me!"

"If you wanted me to fight, you shouldn't have-" Cross's statement was cut off by a thrown knife - just what Cross wanted!

The act of catching a knife midair was something that everyone in Nightmare's gang had spent hours learning. Partly because it looked really cool and intimidating, and also because it was strategical. When Cross lifted his hand up to catch it however, he didn't expect it to be facing backwards. He hissed in pain as he dropped the blade; that had taken him by surprise. Now, both of the fighters were down one weapon, and there was little chance of that changing, unless Cross wanted to be in more pain than this sparring session was worth. With the battlefield even, Killer ran across the liquid determination to his opponent, and he slashed at him furiously, tearing through some of the former royal guard's outermost pieces of clothing; it was times like these that made Cross happy about his clothing choices. 

As Killer sliced at him, Cross did his best to defend, moderately annoyed by the fact that Killer hardly ever let his opponents have offensive positions. With a grunt, Cross let his weight pull him to the ground, and he grabbed one of Killer's fibulae with his injured hand before yanking as hard as he could, forcing Killer down with him. The rush of adrenaline allowed him to ignore the searing pain in his hand as he continued on with his goal; forcing his blade toward Killer's neck to end the spar. However, Killer managed to grab the wrist of Cross's injured hand, and he rammed his own blade through the preexisting cut. Cross bit back a cry of pain as his knife slipped out of his good hand, his adrenaline's pain resistance failing him in this crucial moment. Killer pressed a foot down on Cross's good arm, and he brought blue bones up through the guard's legs, effectively disabling him.

"Wanna keep goin,' Crossy?" Killer giggled.

"Ugh.." Cross let his skull fall to the ground, closing his eyesockets. "I yield.."

"Yay!" Killer bounced to his feet, skipping over to the rest of the gang. 

"You did better this time." Nightmare commented, as he knelt down beside Cross, beginning to heal his injured hand. "But you still have a long way to go."

"I'm beating him next time!" Cross declared; the fact that Killer had had decades more experience than he had made no difference in his mind. 

"Perhaps."

He had only been here for a few months..he would beat Killer eventually!

He knew he would!